


blood money

by ddalmun



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Apocalypse, Enemies to Lovers, Gen, Heavy Angst, Shitty Smut, With a twist!, dont read this if youre looking for smut, its bad, not a lot of romance in this actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 12:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20258473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddalmun/pseuds/ddalmun
Summary: years have passed since the downfall of humanity at the hands of vampires, these hell-spawned bloodsuckers; Hell has crawled onto your doorstep and singed the lives of your occupants. Or was it the other way around?seungcheol/gender neutral!reader





	blood money

**Author's Note:**

> also known as bloodlust on my tumblr @ddalmun!

The sky bleeds red; oozes it like a forewarning as the sun slices through the air with a single, clean stroke. The air stands still and clear, providing little distractions away from the scenic transition.

They say the sky is a reflection and you believe it. Many times you’d liked to look up at the sky and trace the clouds and line the edges of constellations, but the skyline would morph into paths of destruction left by the beasts below. To your childlike brain you had always assumed the night-beasts controlled the heavens, turning it into their own personalized hell when it was their time to prance on earth.

And now as an adult, you know that it’s beyond question.

The sky turns velvet while your time nears its end. Even as visions swirl ominously in the sky above you, you hasten your footsteps and keep your mind on task. Meander out in the open like this for much longer and you will become what became your family.

Your heart spikes in fear and pain and you hurry straight into the closing door of a disarrayed mini-mart. An elderly man begins to lock the door when the sound of your call alarms him.

“Wait!” you barge into the shop, nearly knocking the man off his feet in bewilderment. He looks at you with wide, unsteady eyes, hand tightening around a liquor bottle and—oh, no. This is going to be a tough one. “Can you please let me sleep here for tonight? I won’t be a bother. Let me stay and you’ll become one silver tool richer.”

You dig around in your knapsack for a silver blowpipe while he narrows his eyes at you. He finally closes the shop door and awkwardly crosses his arms over his chest.

“What makes you think I want your petty cash?” his voice jitters with intoxication, but still holds that intended bite. “You think I sell for cheap? My hospitality costs more than some silver.”

His words almost throw you for a loop but then you catch whiff of his Hennessy soaked breath. It hits you hard, like secondhand drunkenness but you recover with a better grasp of the situation.

No one in the right mind would ever give up the chance to get a piece of silver—no matter what state it’s in. It’s the only known means of defense against these so-called _vampires_. Not many have gotten close enough to one to use the weapon and survive. But their weakness for silver has been proven by official journalists the day they broke out of hell. To even get the slight peace of mind of surviving against these bloodsuckers is what pushes people to keep on fighting.

But if he’s so drunk that he’d pass up an opportunity like this, bartering with him can either end up _real swell _for you or turn in an unfavorable direction.

So you try as you might.

“Cigarettes? Alcohol?” Surely a drunk like him would appreciate a free glass of booze.

“Got a whole shelf of ‘em,” he waves you off and nods behind you. “I ain’t worried about your little Christmas gifts. What you’ve got in your bag is the least of my concern—you can’t offer me none.”

“Sir, please. It’s only for tonight—one night,” you beg, “I’ll be out of your hair in no time!”

“Heh, nah,” he brushes off your pleas with little hesitation. “For all I know you could’ve chased those damn demons into my store.”

“There was no one around me, sir. I swear,”

“Swearing ain’t gon’ get you far around here,” the man takes a step closer to you as he says this, backing you up against a rack. You gasp, bringing your bag over your chest to place an obstacle between the two of you. You force a tremor down and hold your stance.

Unfortunately, now you’ve got to take a turn down the unlucky route.

It’s silent, minus the sound of the rack’s products swaying gently from the force of your impact. The man looks you up and down, judging your worth beneath his leery gaze. He stops, takes a swig of his drink, and tosses it on the floor beside him.

“Well, you are just fine, aren’t ‘cha?” the man reaches for you and you attack. You shove him away but he snatches your wrist at the last second.

“Let go!” Stumbling onto him, you raise a swift knee into his stomach. You start to make a dash for it but he quickly snatches your knapsack and yanks you towards him. With more space between you, you grab the mart’s door and swing it open. He staggers from the intrusion, leaving you darting into the darkened streets. It leaves him with one firmly clenched hand over your knapsack and it breaks under the pressure.

You tumble forward but kick back your feet, putting distance between you and the flickering lit miniature store. You look back and see the man glowering at the entrance. But he makes no move to follow after you.

Turning a corner, you jog for the remainder of the sun’s descent. Memorizing the streets, you promise yourself that you’ll get your bag back in the morning after you find another substitute of a sleeping place. Sweat builds at the bottom of your neck and the top of your forehead, not from the exhaustion of your pace, but from the anxiety of your prospects. If you find a place to sleep. If you’ll be able to retrieve your bag in the morning. If there will even be a morning to wake up to. That is, if you ever wake up.

No. Thinking of death in times of danger will get you there. That’s what Jaehyung always taught you.

Jaehyung would want you to keep pushing onward._ ‘If you want your brother to be proud then you’ll keep fighting for me, okay?’_

So as the black-blue sky descends upon you, you take his words to heart and carry on—

—up until you round a corner and jog down the block of an old, desolate fire station. It looms over you like the hull of a ship, its paint long past chipped and rusted. Vines grow out from within the building and wraps around it like coils; you could smell the moss from where you stand.

But despite all that, nothing looks more inviting.

Its garages are wide open and empty, beckoning you to enter and so you do. You’re careful to not let the soles of your shoes echo throughout the vacant expanse, even contemplating if it’s best to take off your shoes, but a single hand pressed against the cold concrete walls persuades you against doing so.

The station hugs you with hostile frigidness. You shake hands with the walls; stroking the surface to guide you as the moon’s light slowly disperses behind you. You touch the knob of a door and feel your heart race with anticipation. Finally! Did God find the heart to spare you in times of peril? You turn the knob and feel resistance. It’s locked. Of course, he didn’t.

The air shifts around you for a quick second. You tighten your jaw and whirl around to see—nothing. You try the door again, this time smashing your shoulder against the wood. It splinters once. The wind picks up again. The adrenaline inside you spikes.

Cold limbs wrap around you before you have time to think and—

You’re paralyzed by a blindingly sharp pain. Your veins constrict and squeeze around scalding blood—boiling you alive from the inside. The world vanishes and drops you on your burning skull—cracking it open on the concrete floor and spilling its contents like canned soup. You’ve immediately gone numb, and you cherish the feeling of emptiness. But slowly the whites of the world fades and the bite of the night welcomes your return.

You move reflexively and examine at the scene around you.

You lie in a pool of your own blood, seeping from between the crevices of your fingers. They press against the gaping wound in your neck, throbbing to the pulse of your heart. It squirts violently against your hand, aching to spill over the banks of your skin to channel into its own little pungent rivulets.

Your whole right side grows warm with blood while the heat inside you escapes through the wound. The pain urges you to wince but you stave it off, forcing your eyes open despite the colors eroding at the corners of your vision.

The prospect of survival is already in the clear, some greedy monsters never seek to drain the life out of their only prey. At least, not the first time.

And you are lucky to have ended up with this outcome. Most targeted victims succumb to their injuries long before their final blood drops hit the ground. But your brother taught you the tricks out of these situations.

And it’s for him that you push forward.

You stare up at your assailant with irate and cloudy eyes. He towers over you with proof that he’s done this before, perhaps even moments before he crossed you; blood splatter, bruises, and tattered clothes decorate your attacker appropriately.

He crouches down to your level, the moonlight behind him illuminating the amused smile stretched across his face. He cares little about your disdain, the contempt you carry deep in your chest for his kind, the flame of which he fueled.

He presses a hand against the opposite side of your neck, checking for the humdrum of your pulse.

“Doesn’t that hurt? Forcing yourself awake when you could let go like everybody else? Or do you like the lightheadedness of it—does it bring you to a high?” The monster sounds genuinely curious, but that question has your blood boiling. The blood in your mouth tastes sour, tart, and makes you purse your lips in disgust. For him to have the audacity to maim you, bleed you like a rag, and drop you like counterfeit and to finish off the ordeal—_he dares ask you if you enjoyed it?_

You convulse in your fury but quickly compose yourself, grappling the holes in your neck as you remind yourself of your diligence.

The creature continues to sweep you with a bemused look, even as you clear your mouth of blood through spit. You glare at him with whatever strength you have left and strain your voice to speak levelly.

“You—cleaning up your family’s mess for them, are ya?” The words come out slightly slurred from your delirium, but it’s clear he understood you just fine. You keep your half-lidded eyes on his and revel in his bewilderment.

“You—what?” He gapes. “How do you—”

Your vision starts to flicker more rapidly, the last bout of willpower dissolving by the second. Your hearing fades in time with your vision, catching only fragments of his words and gasps. 

Your body grows lighter, your consciousness heavier—

* * *

—You wake up with shallow breaths. Your vision spins over a thousand images but focuses only on one and it’s you staring up at a textured ceiling instead of a mold-rotten one. You try to pull yourself up but the weight on your neck lolls your head to one side. Your wound pulsates rhythmically, steadily, and you know that despite the pain—you’ll be okay.

Collapsing back on the floor, you grit your teeth to familiarize the ache. Deep breaths. In and out. In—out. When you’re all healed up, the pain of today will become a distant memory in the future. There’s a chance you may not remember it at all—if you’re lucky enough to fill your time with safety and success. Your mind would be too content to think about your painful past. Yes, bare with it for now and it’ll be over before you know it.

_“You were always better at handling pain than me,” a hazy Jaehyung winces, holding onto a bandaged side. He’s been attacked by a rogue wanderer. His painkillers has long since ran out, leaving you both to fend off bruises and aches through sheer willpower alone. He flicks you a sorrowful smile, “It used to be embarrassing before; being out-toughed by a kid as an adult. But now I can appreciate your capabilities. You should do better than me. You’re skilled, cunning, and talented. But most of all—you persist. You’ll be the one to outlast all of us.”_

_He chuckles, “and I’d better see you to it.”_

So you gather all of your strength and bounce to your feet despite every fiber in your body screaming at you lay back down. With a clench of your fist, you’re steady on your toes, and move to explore the details of your surroundings.

You’re in a den of sorts. A cabin, maybe? It’s small with a lone, potted window to your side. Upon closer inspection you find it overlooks a dry expanse. Dry, yellow grass reaches out for miles until it merges with a horizon of trees; the woods.

With nothing else in the room of note, you exit the room into a narrow hallway. More windows line the wall to your right, illuminating and heating the tight space. The warmth soothes your body’s ache, but seems to whip you into a state so woozy you tumble over.

Your shoulder hits a wall and prevents you from falling flat on your face. Well _that—_but the unfamiliar hand wrapped around your arm seems to help, too. What that hand doesn’t prevent is your ensuing race to the floor—skidded arms and all.

It feels like you’ve black out all at once, waking up a second time to bruised knees and a man hovering over your face. He’s different from the guy who had attacked you last night. Softer faced but just as venomous.

“Should I be surprised he brought you here?” He sounds apathetic to the sight of you laying at his feet, but the tip of his fangs poking out makes you hyper-aware of your vulnerability. You tremble in fear and scream—

“Who—who are you?!” You both wince at the tone of your voice. He sighs and leans you against a wall, studying you. Or more accurately, studying the wound on your neck.

“Jeonghan,” he says, pausing to give you the chance introduce yourself. You don’t. “Friend of the vampire who saved you. Allegedly.”

“Saved me?” you exclaim. He has to be joking. That beast assaulted you!

“Allegedly.”

“What does that mean?”

“You weren’t going to die anyway,” Jeonghan turns his head, masking the expression on his face. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

It hurts to force back a smile, but you manage. Barely. The twinge in your belly causes your voice to waver—from excitement? Adrenaline? Fear? You’re not sure.

“How did you know?”

“Seungcheol tells me everything. That little quip you gave him struck him hard. Who would’ve guessed a little human would know so much about our business? And look at what an advantage it gave you. Call me impressed.”

“Okay, Impressed. Now can you tell me where I am? And why’d ‘_Seungcheol_’ bring me here?”

“You should know why he brought you here. As for what he plans to do now that you’re here is as much of a mystery to me as it is to you,” Jeonghan shrugs. He stands up and dusts of his pants, analyzing you a final time. You feel a shiver creep up your body and you fearfully pull your knees up to your chest; his action reminding you a bit too much of a previous encounter in a store. You feel your anxiety spike for a fleeting second—the store! You become increasingly aware that Jeonghan never answered your first question.

“—I’ll go let him know you’re awake,” he says, swiftly leaving down the hall to vanish before you could reiterate yourself.

You slump against the wall and close your eyes.

_“We can’t just ambush them. What if they’ve got weapons? Secret members? Literally anything that gives them a leg up on us? We need a plan and a good one,” Jaehyung berates your team as you crouch behind a bush. A group of hustlers raid the cabin of a fallen crew once affiliated with your team. You had gone to them for supplies, only to find their dead bodies strewed across their front yard._

_“But Jaehyung—we don’t even know them or their route! They could disappear on us at any second and we won’t be able to get back at them for what they’ve done,” cries a young boy named Jose, around your age, but just the slightest bit younger. He’s red in the face and glassy eyed._

_“You run in there without a plan and you get caught. And then what? You can’t plan your way out of their hands when they’ve got your every exit trapped.” Jaehyung doesn’t let up, staring daggers into the little one’s tearful eyes. He’s not usually this ruthless. But your group’s young and fragile and dear to him. He’ll risk a couple of broken hearts if it means he wouldn’t have to deal with more losses. So he sours up and keeps your impulsivity in check by telling you to say your goodbyes and depart, leaving the hustlers to have their way. Through tears he taught you some lessons: in desperate times, call for a plan. Never play your part on a whim. Subdued with a plan is as good as none._ You reason.

You don’t have a plan.

“Hello?” You open your eyes and see the vampire who sucked you nigh dry. _Seungcheol_. He looks entirely different from the night before—fully kempt, straightened, and fresh faced. He looks tamed. But his brutish stance gives away his savage background. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” you respond. It’s hard to keep your eyes on the beast who attacked you without your heart racing. So you don’t. Having you gravel at his feet must make him feel giddy.

“Want something to eat? Drink? Is that throat of yours dry or perhaps—still bloodied?” your blood bubbles at the question and you can’t help but snap at him.

“My neck? Oh, aren’t you curious? I thought you were intrigued by my _high _or however you put it.” Seungcheol takes a momentary step back at your remark but recovers quickly. Despite that, he stands quiet for a moment.

“I—_sigh_—I’ll let you ask me questions over a short breakfast,” he says. “I know you must be confused and tired and pained and—yeah.”

He reaches a cautious hand in your direction. You look from his face to his hand before shaking your head and moving to your knees. Even though your body creaks with each movement, you wouldn’t be caught dead touching hands with a hell-spawned bloodsucker. Seungcheol takes a glance at his and drops it, with an expression you’re too irritated to read.

You stand to your feet and level your eyes with his, your walls built tall. “I’m up. Where to?”

He nods his head once and makes a gesture. “Follow me.”

* * *

“I haven’t really brushed up on my human cuisine in the last couple years. Hope you don’t mind,” Seungcheol doesn’t sound the least bit remorseful as he places a squirrel before you—it’s skin peeled cleaned. It smells as if it’s on the second stage of death, and looks like it’s on the verge of bleeding maggots.

You fend off a gag from turning into a vomit. “Seung—”

“It’s cooked on a fire!”

“—Cheol,”

“Rare to medium rare. That’s what you humans enjoy, isn’t it?”

“Seungcheol, this is _disgusting_!” You toss the plate away in a fit of rage. This has to be a joke! These demons are just playing with their food! That’s all you are to them—food. He attacked you and bit you and took you here all so he can watch you suffer until your heart runs out of blood. You’re gonna die here if you don’t leave soon, if you don’t leave—

“Hey!” Seungcheol smashes the plate in front of you—it breaks! “I could’ve called for others to finish you off—you know that, right?

You suck in a breath and stay silent, glaring at him with indignation. He ignores you, tossing the broken shards on the ground and runs his bloodied hands through his hair.

The tension is stifling. You both can feel the other’s opposition towards each other. It’s obvious you both acted on a whim. Dealing with the consequences of your high emotions is proving to bring in a whole ‘nother type of baggage.

“If your desire is collecting scraps there’s a garden in the back,” Seungcheol finally huffs, turning away from you to clean up the shattered shards. “You better pick your food up from the ground before I do.”

* * *

The garden is less like a garden and more of a bog. Wild plants grow around and over bodies of water, dangling enticing bundles of fruits and berries.

You sink your bare feet into the cool earth of the marsh (bog? Fen?—too bad you didn’t study wetlands in school—or really, study at all) and rustle through leaves to pick out a tiny assortment of berries. You gather some fallen hazelnuts near your feet, and even notice a bush full of rumpled guavas. That, you leave alone after squeezing one in your hand—hard and unripe.

Though most of the fruits aren’t ripe, you toss the pieces into your mouth one by one, cringing when the bitter sourness explodes on your tongue. Your stomach gurgles unhappily, so you pop some more in your mouth in distaste.

Out in the open like this, surrounded by natural sounds, you get to thinking.

Up until last night, things have been going normal for you. Traveling to cities, befriending and trading with people, reading up on old newspapers; just about anything to get you to your end goal. You have always, always been heavily aware of the threat of an attack—be it vampire or human, and you are not without personal experience in either of them. But things had been going so usual for you.

You had gone through more stressful times than that night, but it was last night that put you in such a humiliating position. To have been violated, robbed, and attacked—and it was your word that you’d spit out in attempt to save your last shred of dignity. It happened all too fast.

Fortunately, it could have gone worse. And the funny thing is: what you said in the moment was almost entirely a shot in the dark. ‘_Seungcheol’s family mess_’ was only hearsay relayed onto you. Although you never took it as fake, you never pinned it on that vampire in particular. Who’s to say he couldn’t have been just another sickening bastard with similar biting habits.

Anyways, now that your adrenaline finally mellows out, you can consciously assess your current predicament. You contemplate your person and recall the moment you had your knapsack snatched. Great. Now you’re defenseless.

You hear the rustle of feet come from behind you. You dread another interaction with the vampire but you swallow it down with a bite of a cranberry.

Seungcheol squats next to you. Silence commences, willfully due on your part. Minutes pass with you finishing the batch in your hand and reaching out to grab a handful more.

“Questions?”

“Huh?” You jump. You had gotten so used to the quietness that you’d nearly forgotten Seungcheol was there.

“I said I’d let you ask me some questions over breakfast,” he says.

“Oh.” The silence resumes. Seungcheol reaches forward and grabs a guava, biting into its unripe skin, unfazed.

“Ok, well,” you think it’s best to start inoffensively. “why are you here? I thought vampires aren’t allowed to be in the sunlight.”

He chuckles, amused by your path of questioning. “Who’s allowing us to do anything? The Chief Vamp? But no, babe, it’s only 9AM. I’ll head inside to catch some sleep soon enough.”

Your shoulders tick at the nickname. You try not to let bother you. “So you don’t burn?”

“Not unless you light us on fire.” You haven’t thought of that before—probably because it feels like the vampires crawled directly out of hell itself, but it sounds like a great final resort if it ever comes down to it.

“Since you’ve got a guava in your hand, do vampires eat human food?”

Seungcheol tosses it in the air a couple of times, “Not like it does anything for us—but yes, sometimes. But living life on manmade food sounds terrible when you can just have the man,”

_Good one_. You feel the urge to the ask the extent of their tolerance. Would poison work? What counts as edible to them? To keep from spilling, you ask something different but not unrelated. “How long can you go without ‘food?’”

The corner of Seungcheol’s lips turn upward just slightli, going almost unnoticed by you. The hairs on your arms raise. You must’ve struck something in him. “As long as we want.”

“wha—” your stomach drops. Nothing could have prepared you for such an answer. You can’t help but stutter.

“Vampires are cold-blooded, you know?”

You inhale deeply to calm your nerves. If he’s gonna force you into the deep end, then so be it. Let’s get into the hard questions.

“Where are we and why did you take me here?”

“Well first off, this is my little humble abode. And second off, I think it’s about time I ask you questions.”

“But—”

“I mean, it’s rude to not know anything about your guest, wouldn’t you agree?”

‘_Guests_’ in this day and age have been killed off since the outbreak, and you are not about to join them by arguing with a vampire. So you sigh: “—Fine.”

Seungcheol takes a moment to collect himself before starting, surprisingly quiet. “How did you know…?”

It’s your turn for the corner of your lips to raise up suspiciously, and you fight off a giggle. A simple insinuation is enough to bring a vampire to his knees. You’re not entirely sure how much of your knowledge is genuine; and he isn’t sure how much you actually know. If you play your cards right, you might be more safe than if you carried silver.

“I knew someone pretty well-versed in your history,”

“My history?” Seungcheol raises his brows. “Oh, yeah? How far back does he know?”

You shrug, averting your eyes to stare back at the scenery in front of you. “Far enough. But I’ll be happy to hear you disprove any of his findings when the time comes around.”

Seungcheol shakes his head and leaves the conversation alone. The sun continues to rise and warm up the land, the vegetation trapping in the heat. Slowly, you feel the effects of the warmth materialize as sweat and you wonder if he’s feeling the same, too.

“My bag,” you break the silence with an unintelligible request.

“What—” and of course, he’s confused.

“That night we… encountered, I had lost a bag down by a mini-mart. It has my valuables and stuff that I need.”

“Valuables, huh?” he snorts, “Lemme guess—a lump of silver and a stake?”

You don’t answer.

“I’ll get it, but you won’t be recovering any of your _‘prized possessions._’ Hope that’s fine with you,”

“Whatever,” rolling your eyes, you stand up and leave him by the bog to head inside. You’re just about tired of his snide remarks and it’s about time he goes to sleep.

* * *

The plains seem to stretch on for miles and you’re not familiar enough with the land to risk leaving. You’ve stuck to metropolitan areas your whole life, only venturing to the country side when with Jaehyung and his team. Streets and crossroads are much easier to navigate than open land. One has the power and ability to have you wandering for days without any sign of food or shelter.

You don’t know where Seungcheol is.

Hours have since past since your proper introductions, with you nearly interrogating him. The garden’s been empty since the first time you checked on it, thirty minutes after your ‘breakfast.’ Too cautious to check deeper into his house, you settled on retreating back to your room and studying the area around you.

Now you’re several feet out the front door, facing the far away trees and wondering if escape is as brutal as Jaehyung says.

_“If you ever find yourself in that situation, you can’t expect others will try to find you,” Jaehyung chastises the younger kids after pressing him incessantly. “There’s survival in groups, and the more the group separates to hunt for lost members, the less we can expect back.”_

_“So you wouldn’t hunt for me?”_ your own voice rings in your head, small and fragile, like a child who had not a clue of how hard life could be without a companion—because you were. Although you hadn’t known Jaehyung your whole life, that short period between losing your parents and meeting Jaehyung has been ripped entirely from your memory.

You re-watch the pain flash acorss Jaehyung’s face as he avoids looking directly at you. He mulls over his next words before turning to you and speaking in an reassured voice,_ “I will never let you stray into danger’s path. Not while I’m alive.”_

Now you’re here. All pathways lead into the unknown except for one, and you’re too curious to turn back. The dead earth sinks beneath your feet as you cobble further and further away from the vampires’ den. 

Slowly the yellow grains become stained with red. You almost startle at the sight, flicking your head up to gaze back at the den behind you. It’s still as vacant as you left it—no sign of Seungcheol or Jeonghan clambering past the splintered edges of the shack. But you fear what hides outside the sphere of your vision, so you keep your head down and follow the spots with the tips of your toes.

You look up only when you hear the hoots of a fowl—or several. The red splotches around your feet unveil something more horrifying, sickening, a poor sight for sore eyes. A crowd of vultures feed upon a broken and bloody body, snapping its intestines in half and peeling the skin away from its bones.

It seems as though they just got started, passing over the person’s face for places more meaty and tender.

Your scream gets muffled by a bout of vomit. You should be used to this by now; you’re no stranger to dead bodies, but the sight of them never fails to make your heart drop. Especially now, as you watch your kind devolve into nothing but a feast for creatures.

It’s too familiar. Too similar to your current situation.

You look up at the sky for a second, to gather your bearings, and when you look back down the vultures are gone and the body’s changed. Jaehyung lies there, stomach opened and guts harvested. His eyes show the faintest of life in them, staring up at you in pained defeat.

“Kill me…” he rasps, but the voice is not of his own. His features morph before you, crunching and curdling, until you blink his face away.

The body is exactly how you found it, except more ravaged by the vultures. You feel your whole sanity deplete and you turn away before your mind could play any more tricks on you. You can’t tell what’s safe for you anymore; to stay alongside the vampire who bit you or to escape until another vampire can.

Your feet carries you back to Seungcheol’s den, your mind transfixed on one thing. You don’t feel anything when you reach the doorway, enter the hall, and collapse into ‘your’ room. Jaehyung’s dead body threatens you behind the safety of closed eyes. But his battered face and mangled body aren’t the only things you recall so vividly. The body in the fields shares a unique quality with the late Jaehyung, something that confirms all doubtful suspicions:

Two bite marks on its neck and wrist.

* * *

Days have passed since you found yourself laid inside an empty room after an encounter with a vampire, and the wound on your neck has healed up quite nicely. You’re surprised you haven’t obtained any more vampire-related injuries since, especially when you’ve gotten more aware of the duo’s lingering gaze as you walk past them. **  
**

Instead, you’ve earned your cuts and bruises after days of entertaining yourself in their garden. Testing out the vulnerability of the soft dirt by building and destroying makeshift towers and shacks alike. What else is there to do when you no longer barter and trade for food and protection?

What else to do—besides think up a plan?

It’s not a plan to break out and escape, or a plan on how to kill your abductors (yet). But it’s a plan.

After running into that decomposing body in the fields, it finally struck you on how to make your disappearance worthwhile.

While you’ve been keeping your hands busy, you’re not too sure about the other guys. Jeonghan tends to leave the den to go who-knows-where more often than Seungcheol, who seems to hole himself up in a room closed off from your usual path to the garden.

“What do you even do all day?”

Seungcheol looks unperturbed by your question, quirking an eyebrow at your curiosity. Usually, you try your best to avoid him while you can—only leaving your spot in the garden when you have to, and never wandering into places you shouldn’t be.

But this morning, you happened to wake up a bit too early—the moon still high in the sky—and walked in on Seungcheol skulking around in the run-down kitchen. He’s the only thing holding you back from bringing your plan into fruition, so you swallow your pride just this once and break your cold shoulder streak.

“What do I do all day? I handle my business without sticking my nose into others’, babe,” he turns his attention to a letter after brushing you off. His brows furrow as he reads its content, piquing your interest. Well, now you’ve added another task to your plan. Distracting Seungcheol and keeping an eye on that parchment seems to be the first step in turning your plan into a reality.

“Does that involve you hopping inside a coffin and staring at your reflection in the wood because you know that’s the only chance you’ll get at knowing what you look like?”

Seungcheol’s eye twitches at your jab, but the corner of his lips rise nonetheless.

“Yep. Definitely. And am I correct in assuming you like to build toys out of sticks and branches to reimagine past interactions with your kind?”

Your face falls and he immediately bellows a laugh. But he doesn’t stop there—

“Which is funny, of course, because last I remember you were running away from one of those pests. Humans sure have a knack for butchering their own relations, don’t they?”

“Don’t you have an injured victim to chase down?”

“Don’t you have two starving vampires living next to you?” Your breath hitches, and you glare at him while he casually re-folds his letter. “Seriously, dollface, you wake up this early just to piss off a vampire? Sounds like you need to buy some new toys.”

He walks past you, leaving you feeling smaller than you came here for. But you shake it off and glance back as he returns to his room. If you want your plan to succeed you’ll have to keep a closer eye on him.

* * *

Days have passed with you studying the vampires’ behaviors. You make sure to put up half a front in that you do not wish to be here, and entertain Seungcheol when he decides to tease you. Jeonghan, however, stays out of your way as much as you stay out of his. 

The night has come where you finally act on your plan. The body in the fields, your brother, and the bite mark on your neck all point to one thing. You think back on a conversation shared between you and Jaehyung—in which he felt compelled to explain the details behind your friends’ brutal endings after his first attack. 

_“It’s about time I’ve told you some things about vampires, soldier,” Jaehyung sits down at the table across from you, two bite marks on his neck wrapped with bandages. Your eyes keep falling to it, filling you up with a debilitating sense of fear and guilt. “So in the case this ever happens to me again, you’ll know what to do.”_

_“Jaehyung, remember Samantha,” you break the silence before he could continue, “when she was killed there wasn’t a spot of blood on her. When I found you, you were soaked in it—almost laying in a puddle. But you still survived. What happened?”_

_“That’s the thing,” Jaehyung sighs and holds his breath, as if struggling to come up with his next words. “We think there’s a group of vampires who drink from people only until they graze death—never killing them. And we think they’re helping us.”_

_“What?” your heart races at the thought. The blood loss has surely gotten to him. “What do you mean? And who’s we? You mean you and Moise?”_

_“Yes. We talked earlier and… There’s this family, or a group of friends, who’ve bitten some of the people that we’ve met. And they all survived—like me. But each member bites a different part of the body. I was obviously bitten on the neck, but the others…”_

_At this point you wish to block out Jaehyung’s rambling. The vampires have taken so many lives, including both of your families. To think that some of them want to help? Something has gotten into Jaehyung’s head, and you don’t like it._

_“…I know it’s hard to believe. But it’s not a coincidence. I didn’t survive by chance,” Jaehyung reaches across the table to grab your hands, clasping them tight while staring into your eyes. “There’s this one vampire who’s different from the others. Moise has ran into him before. He doesn’t bite his victims in a unique spot like the others. He… shares a spot with someone else. But this hasn’t happened until recently. And look—”_

_He slides a ripped newspaper over the table. It was printed back when the outbreak first hit the media, when people were quickly trying to gather as much information as possible before the manufactories broke down._

_Titled in faded letters read ‘ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇs ᴏꜰ ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟs ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ’_

_“We think… I think he’s trying to change.”_

If that newspaper bears any truth that means Seungcheol is the son of a criminal. And if Jaehyung was on the right track—then he’s stealing somebody’s bite before they can, à la _cleaning up his family’s mess_. But whose?

Unfortunately, you’d already lost the insider of the group—Moise. He was older than your brother, but those two worked in pairs. He had a stack of materials he’d share with him, and the moment he passed was the moment he destroyed all the knowledge kept on him.

You can only hope Jaehyung shared enough information with you before he followed suit. It’s definitely not enough to come to a definitive conclusion, and that’s what you plan to find tonight.

If it’s all true then you’re standing inside the den of a primary source, someone directly responsible or in close ties with the one responsible for your friends’ suffering. Above all else, you may very well be minutes away from discovering the killer of Jaehyung. And you may finally be able to avenge his death.

You push open Seungcheol’s door, with a bit of resistance. You sneak your head inside and examine his room. There isn’t much to see at this hour, the moon’s high in the sky and hidden behind thick clouds. The vampire duo are out, probably biting some poor victim again, and probably left thinking you’d fall asleep for the night. And if not, they’d assume you’d be too busy cowering behind your own built barricades to notice their departure. 

Anyways, you walk past the door and let your eyes adjust to the darkness—drinking in the furniture in Seungcheol’s room. You just need to find something on his past, his family, friends—Jeonghan, maybe? 

You examine the possible places he’d hide this sort of information and dive right into the easy areas. You open the drawers and rummage through clustered clothing—nothing. You pull back Seungcheol’s bed sheets, digging your hands underneath his pillows and mattress only to pull out rolls of lint and insect carcasses. This pattern goes on for the rest of your pillaging. 

“There must be somewhere I haven’t looked,” you curse yourself, gazing out the bedroom window to watch the seconds count down till sunrise. You’ve almost forgotten what you’re looking for when—his letter. 

The corner of an aged envelope peeks out behind an electrical outlet. It’s definitely missed underneath the usual darkness of the night, but the moonlight phases through the window at just the right angle and highlights its distinct edge.

You nearly toss yourself at the wall to claw at the outlet. Your nails break as you try to get a grip underneath the plastic, and then you tear with all your might. 

Along with the envelope drops a single jewelry. A silver necklace. You bring it up to your face to inspect it. It’s a simple box chain that weighs heavy in your hand. 

“A silver… necklace?” you don’t question it, pocketing it in your pants to unravel the holed up envelope. It’s a handwritten letter and the ink hasn’t faded yet. Your eyes immediately skip to the final line, which you read aloud. “_Please, write back to your mother… I miss you, dearly_,”

A knock interrupts you. You look up and find—

Jeonghan, staring down at you from Seungcheol’s doorway. Your gazes meet and he immediately narrows his eyes.

“Are you—” He gasps and takes a step back. “Oh, just you wait until Seungcheol gets this.”

He leaves you stranded in Seungcheol’s room, heart beating faster than you can blink. You hurriedly shove your findings into your pocket and kick the outlet into place. 

Seungcheol barges into the room at the next second. He wrenches your shoulders in his hands and draws you close to his face, where he seethes with inexplicable rage. Your heart plummets and you match his rage with fear. 

“Seung—”

“You scheming little—is that what you’re in here for? A gun? A weapon? Scraps of metal?”

He just about explodes in front of you. You blink wearily as he raises you in the air, gasping for a way to answer his barrage of questions.

“No! I—”

“You’re not going to find anything in there, you filthy human,” he begins to shake you while your eyes well up with tears. “You came in empty handed and you are going to leave empty handed. There is nothing in this den you can use against me that I can’t take away.”

He drops you on your feet but you can’t help but crumple to the floor. Seungcheol’s violent gaze slowly transforms into a look of humiliation.

“You’re looking for ways to kill me, right?” He doesn’t let you answer, immediately following up with a groan of sadness. “Just gonna use my family’s history to rig me into bringing you where I’m most vulnerable, huh?”

“N-no, Seungcheol. I’m—”

“How did you even know? I do so much to leave my background in the dark and yet that’s still not enough in a world with no technology.” At this point, he sounds defeated. The silence hangs in the air longer than usual, and you take this as your chance to explain yourself.

“N-no, I wasn’t trying to do anything like that. I was looking for an explanation myself. F-for, what happened to my—” you hesitate, not sure whether to reveal your own background as early as right now.

Seungcheol shakes his head, picking you up from the back of your T-shirt and pushing you towards his door. His voice wavers with the fresh spark of tears. 

“Leave. Go barricade yourself in your room before rip your throat out.”

Nodding, you turn to leave, pausing when he exclaims behind you. 

“Wait! My stuff.” you pull out his crumpled letter and chain from your pockets and lay them in his hand. With a slight bow of your head, you step out and enter the hallway.

You walk into Jeonghan who stands by a wall with his arms crossed. It looks like he heard everything. He remains stoic as you make eye contact with him, shaking his head with a face of disapproval.

And now, you leave the situation feeling even smaller than you were before.

* * *

To your surprise, he still hasn’t killed you yet. Instead, you almost face starvation as you pluck the last of the elderberries from his bushes. Since his breakdown, you’ve kept yourself to the garden. Not much difference since before his breakdown, although this time you’ve built a tiny shack!

In the meantime you’ve been gathering your thoughts. You’re here to look for clues on your brother’s murderer, while _Seungcheol _has brought you here to—

Well, you’re still not sure. What you are sure of is the fact that these creatures could literally fling you into the wall if they wanted. You curse the sky for making these demons so powerful, and so hungry for power all the same. 

The sun begins to set for the night. And while contemplating your hunger, you skip stones, counting the ripples until—

“I could let you starve here, you know?” You scream and jump from your seat, nearly into the pond. Seungcheol laughs from behind you. “That’s an overreaction if I ever saw one. You’ve done near picked the garden clean! Sooner or later you might have to go out and catch your own meals, like me.”

“I’ve gone out before,” your voice starts small. After two days of ignoring each other’s presence he suddenly comes up behind you. You’re not hoping to push any more buttons before it’s too late. “There’s nothing out here for miles.”

“I believe it.” Somehow that stung. “Why don’t you just ask me to take you where the meat’s fresh? S’not that hard, is it?”

“Uh,” you shrug. Not sure what he’s getting at here—he knows exactly why you wouldn’t ask. You don’t push him. “How do you even travel outside these plains? I’m thinking that’s at least three hours of walking through the forests before you wind up anywhere worthwhile.”

“Ha, well by not doing what you humans do it’s much quicker,” he laughs as you toss a curious look over your shoulder. “And even faster than explaining it to you. Go clean yourself up and we’ll head out.”

* * *

You’re the embodiment of confusion as you dress out of your dirty clothes and step next to Seungcheol at the front door. He gives a slight nod and tugs your hand. “Ready?”

“As ready as I can be for the unknown,” you say.

Before you can think, Seungcheol pulls you onto his back and bounds through the trees. You watch the plains turn into trees, and the trees turn into distant towers and you’re struck by sudden motion sickness. You vomit by the time you reach your destination, while he laughs offhandedly at you, distracted with scoping the land. 

“Still got the stomach of a weak child, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

You examine your location next. You’re in a type of park; it’s open land with wild greens, but rusty infrastructures still litter the premises. A lake courses through the center. Squirrels and pigeons chatter in the night and you’re strangely consumed by the sense of dread.

“You ever hunted before?” Seungcheol pulls your attention as glance at him. He’s busy with pulling the roots out of planted shrubbery. 

“I mean, yeah?” he pauses to glimpse up at you at your quizzical tone. “Don’t you know how much time has passed since the outbreak?”

“Time seems to blur together when you’re old,” he shrugs, “anyway, even if you didn’t know how to hunt I wouldn’t be able to help you. Do I look like a stick and spear kind of guy to you?”

“I never said you did,” you roll your eyes. “You sure do love shutting down absent implications.”

You glance at your surroundings once more, taking extra time to observe the far trees and buildings around you. A chill still runs over you, so you look away from background and back at Seungcheol.

“Um, instead of wild animals, I think I’d rather hunt for fish.” You’re not looking to get maimed by another set of fangs. You grab a branch and step into the lake. While you snag some of the few fishes that swim between your legs, the silence grows more eerie by the hour. While silence usually comforts you in times of stress, this one troubles you more you let it drag.

“Is this your usual feeding route?”

“Of course not, gotta switch it up from time to time!” Seungcheol answers your question a bit too chipper for your liking. But you shrug it off. His tone isn’t what creeps you out this late at night. You still feel unsettled by… _something_… you really wish you knew.

“How often do you run into other monstrosities out here?”

Seungcheol sits up, staring you dead in the eye. He answers in a serious tone. “All the time. I’m looking at one right now.”

“Fuck you,” you hurl your branch at his skull. He dodges, of course, and laughs, grabbing his uprooted plants and dashes around a corner. 

Your heart stops. You pull yourself out of the lake and hastily grab your catch, jogging in the direction he ran. “S-seungcheol?”

And then you feel it. Eyes—everywhere. Ogling at you as though you were prey Every bird, every animal, every insect, every fish turns their eyes towards you. You become hyperaware of your mortality, how inconsequential you are in the grand scheme of things, and you panic.

_You follow the trail of blood until its scent builds up into a nauseating stench. Spots of blood turn into smears, smears into puddles and puddles into—_

_“J-Jaehyung?” you call out, trembling in your skin as you step around a battered bush. Just behind some crumpled leaves lies your brother covered in a mush of blood and mud. He lays lifelessly before you, coughing up clumps of drying blood and hiccuping short gasps. He’s unable to mutter a word, but you watch his eyes light up at the sight of you._

_“Jaehyung!” you feel your faith pour from within you, pushing you to your knees. You cry his name louder, again and again, as you crawl toward his body. His hands feel cold inside yours, his grasp weak._

“Hey!” A hand clasps your shoulder and shoves you back, falling into a pile of fish. “What’s the matter with you?”

It’s Seungcheol. He looks down at you, confused yet apathetic but all around inconvenienced. You blink at him a couple times until relief flows through you.

“Seungcheol!” you cry. You hop onto your feet and wrap your arms around him, he goes rigid under your touch. “Where were you? You just left me here all alone.”

“For someone who allegedly lived their whole life on the streets, I didn’t think you’d curl into a ball the second I’d step away,” he sounds wholly unimpressed. But with the way the night air still sends a chill down your spine, you can’t bring yourself to care. As long as you’re not alone.

“Whatever. We’re done hunting, correct? Now can you please get me out of here?”

* * *

“Where were you headed anyway?”

“South—like everyone else,” you respond, leaning over a pot of boiled fish. Back at the den, you’ve roasted, fried, boiled, and packed every last fish to hold you for the rest of the week. The air between you and Seungcheol has changed since you’d left for the hunt. It’s less strained, held behind chains, and more comfortable.

Your guard is still up, of course. And his is, too, it seems. But that doesn’t bother you. In fact, it’s just how you prefer it—if you allowed the heavens to see you lower your boundaries near a vampire, you might as well sign your death certificate to hell.

“South isn’t any better, you know,”

“You’ve been there?” A good example of your guard is this conversation. Originally, you had been going south, back when you were still with Jaehyung and his team. Since his death, you’ve been going where his killer goes. Seungcheol doesn’t need to know that. “But even so, I’ll determine that for myself.”

“After all these years you think there’s a country left untouched? We’re everywhere, babe,”

“Yeah, and where did you even come from?” you remark, and—Oh, there goes his guard. He shuts up immediately, pulling an empty bowl closer to him to trace at old engravings.

Your lips twitch at his lack of response, and you thank the heavens that you face away from him to tend to your cooking. He’s silent only for a few beats more before he speaks up.

“You seriously don’t know the answer to that?” you pause your stirring to turn towards him. The room is thick with tension, and it’s clear you both know something the other one doesn’t. It’s only a matter of which armor breaks first.

“I only know so much about vampires,” you answer honestly. “Through newspapers, articles, folklore, all of that. But no one I’ve met has gotten genuine information from the vampires themselves.”

He nods appreciatively, lowering the bowl to do his part. “We’re from anywhere. Seriously, no one vampire shares the same history with another… Unless—”

He hesitates. You stop him before he can spill anymore.

“That answers my question, thank you. Anyways, I think it’s about time we both head to bed now that you’ve got me adjusted to vampire time.”

“Ha, get used to that, babe. I might have to bring you on more of my trips if it means I don’t have to worry about you crouching in fear every time I leave.”

You toss a ladle at him. “Shut up! That was only because you left me in the middle of the park!”

* * *

Jeonghan enters the garden as you discover how to make paint out of crushed nuts and berries. He admires your work as you test the consistency on a pale tree bark. You don’t question his presence, nor does he question you. Not until an hour of your paint re-invention passes.

“You’re fitting quite well here. Surprised you’re not dead yet,”

“I’m pretty surprised myself—still questioning myself on whether I’m actually alive or not,”

He squints his eye at your response, judging your tone and the look on your face as you say it. When you don’t signal any continuation he uncrosses his arms and sighs.

“Let me ask you a question. Answer me honestly.”

You set your canvass down and bring your full attention onto him. He pays you back with a slight smile before looking down at his feet, contemplating his next words.

“What were you expecting to find in Seungcheol’s room?”

The garden seems to soak in more of the heat as he asks his question, you wipe away at your brow. There is nothing holding you back from selling Jeonghan a lie, you owe nothing to a vampire. But the emotion on his face as he looks back at you tells you he’s not asking as a vampire to human. But you’re not ready to decipher what it means. So you decide the truth in the shortest way possible.

“Proof. Don’t ask me what for,” to make yourself more apparent, you turn back to your canvas and dip your finger in paint. You hear him sigh and shuffle around, before a heavy knapsack drops down beside you.

“He killed that man, you know.”

The thought of another human life lost to a vampire disheartens you, but you try to bury it under the pretense of ‘_he deserved it_.’

“Tell him thanks, I appreciate that,”

“You’ve affected him since the moment he found you. I can’t tell if it’s for better or worse. But just know he’s not gonna harm you again.”

You try to take his words in. Since he’s attacked you, he’s not gonna hurt you, because you’ve changed him in one way or another. It’s… conflicting.

“Does he… feel anything for me?”

“He feels something. Not sure what it is.” Jeonghan turns to leave you alone. “If you hurt him I won’t lie—he deserved it. Just… leave if it’s on your mind. It’ll do enough damage as is.”

* * *

“Seungcheol, if I asked you to turn me, would you?” you peel away chips and splinters as you sit on a stump, posing nonchalantly in front of Seungcheol’s easel. You convinced him that’d it be fun to paint each other’s portraits because _‘cameras don’t work anymore, if we’re gonna be launched back in time better make use of the best parts_.’

You wanted him to paint you first, so you can properly assess the art skills of a death-evading being. While he’s too busy concentrating on applying his next colors, you hit him with easy yes or no questions to make the time pass.

“Nope.”

You gasp, and you’re not quite sure if it was meant to be intentionally exaggerated. “Why not?”

“I don’t want you to become a vampire. You wouldn’t like it—plus that’s not even possible,”

“It’s not?” you furrow your brows at that. “Then how did you…?”

“In a lab,” he says it so casually you almost fall off your stump. He shrugs his shoulder when you look at him incredulously, poking at your makeshift palette. 

“A lab…”

“Yep.”

“Are you gonna give me more detail?”

“Once upon a time, I got caught in a lab. And came out a vampire.”

“You got caught in a lab,” you honest to heavens thought you’d be able to better decipher Seungcheol’s jokes by now. But like most qualities of Seungcheol—you don’t think you’ll ever understand.

“I’m serious. And it was a government lab. It’s where all the bad kids went,” he raises a thumb and holds it over his eye, tilting it as he accentuates your features with his other hand. He doesn’t look the slightest bit put off by your skepticism. In fact, he seems almost relieved.

“How bad did the kids have to be? I mean, I was told I was a pretty bratty child when the adults came to find me,”

“Bad enough that your father’s sins get passed onto you. Bad enough that the littlest misdemeanor gets pinned on your father’s history and so you wear matching convictions. Or so bad that you follow in his footsteps and finally meet him in his jail cell.”

“Seungcheol…” you watch him as he lowers the palette onto his lap, tears slowly welling up in his eyes. Your fingers twitch with the urge to reach out to him, but you know that the only comfort you have to give will never be enough to soothe the pain of his experience. He wipes away his fallen tears as he continues.

“But it doesn’t matter anymore. No matter how bad you are today, you will never face the punishment from back then.” When it seems like he finished, you’re at a complete loss on what to say. 

“Are you saying… the law… turned you into w-what you are?”

“The law and my father,” he sniffs, “honestly, it still hurts. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to focus on something else for now.”

He picks up his palette and blots his fingers along the canvass, painting in silence. You sit on the stump stunned, and feel the hurt he’s experienced. In the darkness of the garden you start to feel remorseful, regretful of the way you treated him when you met him.

“I’m sorry for… the way I trespassed in your room,”

Seungcheol looks up from his work and meets your eyes, a small smile blossoms over his lips.

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted. I didn’t mean to scare you or threaten you. I—I would never…”

His words dwindle near the end, but you don’t push him. A soft, peaceful understanding passes through you. You never thought you’d see the day where you’d _apologize_ to a vampire—

—And the fact that you wouldn’t mind doing it again

* * *

The fields look different today. It sports three foggy figures creeping over the horizon. You barely notice it at first, thinking it was a trick of the shadows, or some travelers moving east to west. It isn’t until the figures grew clearer, bobbed from side to side, and seem to get closer that you start to panic.

It’s been so long since you came across other humans, yet for some reason relief doesn’t set in just yet. Not while the people unknowingly prowl the land of their actual predators.

The sun shines bright in the center of the sky, undoubtedly meaning vampires are in the moment of having their rest. But that means nothing if you were able to wake up in the middle of the night and enact a plan—vampires are too sensitive to _not_ notice when strangers are intruding on their land.

The figures are half way across the fields when you meet them there, pointing them back towards the direction they came. It’s two women and one man, each looking frazzled at your frantic appearance. The shorter woman, presumably the peacemaker, steps forward and lowers your arm.

“Are you okay? What are you doing?” she speaks with a calming accent, lilt light with concern. The others nod with her, parroting with similar questions aimed at you.

“You can’t be here, I’m sorry. But you have to go back,” you plead with them, gazing back at the den periodically to make sure the vampires can’t hear you.

They follow your gaze and stand straighter, no doubt questioning the validity of your statements.

“Is this your place?” the other girl asks while the man takes a moment to step around you. You jump in front of him before he can get far.

“No! It’s not my place and that’s why you need to leave—you _have_ to leave! This place isn’t safe!”

They must have thought you were crazy before, but now they’re absolutely positive that you’re being held captive, or forced to serve some wealthy looters. The taller woman steps in front of you, placidly placing her hands over your elbows.

“Then we’re taking you. If it’s not safe for us, why is it safe for you?”

“You won’t understand. You guys need to turn back now or else—”

A bloated, ravaged body floats before your vision. Two bite marks on its neck and wrist, and to this day you don’t know who dealt the second bite. Who knows if that vampire walks this land now, or anywhere between this single den and the cities past the forest. There are fates you weren’t there to help, and you’re not about to let three lives pass on your surveillance.

They seem to notice your zoned out state, waving a worried hand over your face. You blink the vision away before huddling the three people closer to you, lowering your voice and leveling your eyes with theirs.

“Listen here. I know you don’t believe me, but trust me when I say walking around here is not safe. Anything to the south of these forests is off-limits, go back north, or east, or west—I don’t care. But do _not_ travel past this line, okay?”

They seem to come to an understanding of your situation, nodding at each other while readjusting their bags. They share a look between each other before the single man speaks up.

“We’ll bring help. We promise.”

“you don’t have to—”

And they’re off. They rush back in the direction they came, plunging into the forest—back into safety.

You let out a deep sigh of relief, and turn back to the den. Hopefully they forgot about their promise and journey into places their help is actually needed. And judging by their attire and postures, it looks like they have a base, or a home to return to.

Now, if only they keep it like that.

* * *

“I’ll bring more dishes out,” Seungcheol dashes to the kitchen, leaving you and your collection of berries in the garden. You hum a sound of acknowledgement. A handwritten recipe for jam rests on a stump, and you sort the berries into different containers for preparation. 

A heavy dusk looms over the plants and weeds around you, enshrouding you with haunting silhouettes of trees. You think back to the times you used to fear this transition—and for good reason. You cannot count the amount of times you woke up to the sun setting, and went to sleep when the sun rose. It was hard to adjust to at first, with trauma following throughout the night. Eventually, the darkness grew peaceful. 

A branch snaps behind you, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“You’re back—” The squashed berries tumble from your hands, as you’re pushed back against the side of the den. The force knocks the wind out of your lungs, and you struggle to gaze up at your attacker in the shadows of tree leaves.

The moon slowly peeks past the leaves and exposes the owner of such high stealth. A woman, taller than you and much, much paler. Her eyes glint red, the telltale sign of a being who drinks blood. She looks down at you, and somehow her features look familiar.

You’re too shocked to struggle against her, and she advances on you. Up close, her face gives away maturity, wrinkles, and fits nothing like how you’d think a vampire should look.

The woman squints her eyes and hooks a finger under your chin. She inclines your head towards her and turns it from side to side, gaze lingering on one spot on your neck.

“Hmmm. Just what I thought. I’ve always been suspicious, but—God, this one just takes the cake,” Her voice comes out smoothe, sultry, and low, and reveals nothing about the implications of her words.

“W-what do you mean,” your throat itches as you stutter out a response. The moisture in your mouth vanishes, your teeth sticking to your cheeks. You couldn’t scream for help even if you wanted to.

“That bite on your neck, it was given to you by a lad, correct?” You keep your silence. “You don’t have to lie to me, dear. I’d remember a special face if I ever saw one; and I don’t recall yours, not one bit.”

Recognition slowly seeps through with every word she mutters. Your heart hammers violently in your chest as you come to the realization as to who this woman is. The bodies, the people, Jaehyung, Moise, _the letter_. They all come together to confirm two things:

—She is Seungcheol’s mother and your brother’s killer.

Oh, God. Moise was right. His theory was right! Seungcheol isn’t the only vampire sparing humans with his bites. His mother steps before and questions the origin of your scars, recognizing that they aren’t her own. 

But now that the creature is standing in front of you, you’re aware that your time is finally up. This situation perfectly mirrors your brother’s; it’s poetic in a way. Jaehyung’s end is your end. Even before he passed, that’s how you would always want it. You never wanted to separate from your brother’s side, but it was he who pushed you to keep on living. 

Had it been under any other circumstance, you would _gladly_ follow in your brother’s footsteps. Even if it lead straight to Death himself—or herself, seeing as the fatal woman stands before you. 

At least she’s gracious enough to give you time to prepare, unlike her ironically merciful son. You have no weapon on you, no way to defend. If you can’t avenge your brother’s death in this life, you’ll calmly accept the next best thing—completely your half of the cycle.

You clench your eyes and brace yourself. Until—

“Mother?” You feel the woman’s hand release your chin and run down the side your neck to your shoulder, gripping you tight. You open your eyes to see Seungcheol trembling by the doorway.

“Seungcheol, deary,” She turns to face her son, voice still leveled and unrevealing. “Why haven’t you spoke to me in so long? I have been waiting for your responses, and yet…”

She fans herself dramatically with her other hand, pinching the bridge of her nose. Seungcheol winces, looking anywhere but either of your faces.

“I… couldn’t talk,” He stumbles over his words, something entirely out of character for him.

“You can talk now. Explain yourself to me, Seungcheol,” Her voice grows more hoarse with anger by the second. She grabs you and force you to your knees. “Explain why you haven’t been writing! And what’s this mark on this lousy leper’s neck?”

Her fingers wrap tight around your neck, keeping you grounded at her feet. She bellows louder as you gasp for air. 

“You’ve been biting my prey, haven’t you! Why? I thought we were in this together, Seungcheol.”

_T-together? _You can barely hear her words over the blood rushing over your ears. Seungcheol keeps his gaze on you, petrified, but he makes no move to help you. He looks back and forth between you and his mother, and slowly, he raises his hands in surrender.

“I can’t do it anymore. Mother, I—I met someone. Someone who reminded me of our humanity.” His eyes are distant and seem to glance over your kneeling figure. Your chest starts to swell with pride, until you realize—he’s not talking about you.

His mother seems to realize this as well, loosening her grip on your neck, and instead places you in steady chokehold. You take in a hearty breath of fresh air and try to meet Seungcheol’s gaze. He avoids you, kicking at the dirt as he recollects his past.

“That person helped me when I was injured. Mother, I was so hurt and—and, they took me in, and nursed me back to health. Even though our kind has killed their friends and family. When they saw me, they didn’t for a second hesitate helping me.”

He looks into his mother’s eyes, voice wavering with emotion. “Not every human is like _them_, or like us. Some of them wish to help. Dare I suggest, _most_ of them wouldn’t want to harm us if we gave them the chance.”

The wind howls its loudest between the fallen silence. His mother’s arm flexes and unflex around your neck. You can’t help but feel moved by his revelation and suddenly it all makes sense. Why he hasn’t killed you since he brought you here; why he hasn’t killed you since he had first bitten you.

You still don’t know the extent of his abuse behind bars, or know much of his past at all. But through the thick tension, you sense that your pasts aren’t much different. You gasp as his mother tightens her chokehold once more.

“Humans still haven’t paid their dues, Seungcheol, and you know this,” she spits at him with pure venom. You can feel her rage through her grip, and you struggle painfully in her grasp. “You should know better! You know better than all of us on just how vile these gremlins can be. We haven’t dealt them a fraction of what they’ve done to us. They _should_fear us!”

“We were them before!” Seungcheol cries, his vulnerability finally breaks through the cracks. He no longer hides it now, the shrillness in his voice shocks you; you almost hang limp in his mother’s arms.

“They stole our humanity from us, Seungcheol! Don’t think for a second that they’ll get theirs,” and to finish off her point, she hoists you onto your feet and presses your body flush to hers. Her fangs graze your neck—

—before she is tackled off you! You topple to the ground, directly at Seungcheol’s feet. Wiping the dirt off your eyes, you glance up to see Jeonghan wrestling Seungcheol’s mother on the floor. You lie there stunned, only scrambling to your feet when Seungcheol lays a hand upon your shoulder. 

“C-come on, we’ve got to—”

“You’re not pawning my kill off of me!” Seungcheol’s mother snaps at Jeonghan, missing his skin by a hair. She claws at his shoulders, trying to flip him over on his back. He struggles to hold her in place, but steadily drives her into the dirt.

“Go! I’ll try to redirect her somewhere safe!” He pins her arms between them and shoves her off balance. As she’s distracted, he folds her into his arms and flees. 

You’re too stunned to make a move, leaning into Seungcheol’s shoulder for support.

“I’ve…got some things I need to explain to you, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

“I’m not sure how long Jeonghan can hold her off, but I hope he understands the importance of this,” Seungcheol pulls you into his room and sits you on his bed. He kneels by the end of it, shuffling around in a corner outside of your peripheral. He comes back up with two items in his hands and sits next to you.**  
**

“So, as you know by now, that was my mother. And she’s…pissed.” He starts. He looks down at his lap, sighing deeply before turning to you. “She’s justified. I’ve stopped talking to her long ago and she’s been sending me letters ever since. And she didn’t do anything wrong, I’ve just… had second thoughts about our plan.”

“Your plan?”

“I don’t know who suggested it first. It just came to be, and we all accepted it—we all _loved_it. I’m going to sound like a monster, but,” he pauses, searching your face for any prejudgements. “We wanted to torture you guys—you humans. We wanted to drain you of blood up until you caught a glimpse of death, until you writhed in pain. We wanted to take turns drinking out of single victims, until your whole bodies were covered in bite marks. That’s when the last vampire could finally go in for the kill.”

You gasp, jumping up from his bed and striding into a far corner away from him. _Just_when you had given vampires the benefit of the doubt. _Just_ when you decided to put your trust in one.

He doesn’t make any move to follow you, only hanging his head in his lap. He doesn’t make an effort to speak any further, forcing you to squeeze an attempt out of him.

“Why? Why would you do something like that?” you can’t hide the disgust in your voice, and you’re not sure you even want to. It takes every fiber in you to not spit on his face, stomp on his feet, to injure and harm him like he’s been doing to your people countless times before. Your flurry of homicidal thoughts only come to an end at the sight of a lone tear dripping from Seungcheol’s cheek.

“Because what they did to us was inhumane,” he wails, taking you aback. You don’t have time to react before it all comes blearing out. “They kept us locked up for years—hundreds of years. My father was a monster. He’s killed people. Dozens of them. And he’s hurt even more. He was finally thrown into prison for life, and you’d think that’d be the end of it. But it was never that easy.

They injected him with something and it backfired—painfully. They spent years turning him into a worse monster than he already was. They cut him open and tormented him, filmed him, and then they just… _let him out_. He came home _ruined_. And—and _they knew it_. He wasn’t the same… He was—”

“—a vampire,” you finish it for him. He nods, wiping his face with the back of his hand before continuing. 

“But it wasn’t simple. He wasn’t like me, he was in pain. He was an even worse danger to society, but he held back. At that time, I was still young and relied on my mom. He wanted to change for the better but would’ve died if he didn’t drink blood soon. Mother didn’t know about it yet, and was confused about his behavior. She thought prison made him go crazy. He wasn’t allowed to tell.”

He pauses to inhale, steadying himself for what seems like the crux of his past pain.

“So he attacked her instead. And he would have attacked me too if it weren’t for Mother’s screams alerting me. I was still young, but I had to leave if I wanted to survive. I left my mother to get eaten alive by my father, and I didn’t know where to go. I had to survive on my own until an orphanage accepted me. I thought I’d be safe there, but by the time I turned eighteen I was back to where I started. Nothing’s changed and I was still without any shelter or food. Let’s just say I had to make end’s meet if I wanted to live into my twenties.

Eventually I wound up in jail. And that’s when I reunited with my parents. At first I was relieved, because at that point I had accepted the possibility of them both being dead. But then I was conflicted.”

You carefully make your way back to his bed, sitting beside him to rub his back. Seungcheol sniffles appreciatively, cautiously laying a hand over your thigh. He squeezes once and travels on in his story.

“But that doesn’t matter. The moment I walked into my father’s cell he forced himself on me. He tried to bite my neck to Turn me and when I pushed him away—he told me: ‘_It’s worse. Trust me, it’s worse. Just let me do this_.’ Needless to say, that didn’t work. And it was my turn to experience what my father had.”

He chokes up. “I didn’t even do anything to deserve that. I never killed anybody, I never harmed anybody up until that point. My father, I understand, he’s a murderer. But it felt like Mother and I were both tortured by association. It was traumatizing. And after years of being trapped in that hellhole, we finally planned our way out. All of us did, including the other cellmates.”

_That’s when the outbreak happened_. The history you lived that you were too young to remember, becomes clearer with every word. Every newspaper, every article—stemmed from this.

“My father sacrificed himself to charge the guards and those in power. I won’t lie and say I miss him—because I don’t. But I do appreciate his last accomplishment in life, even if doesn’t cancel out all the horrendous actions he committed. Call me selfish, but I don’t think I could’ve handled another day in there.”

Everything gradually seems to catch up to today. You remember his mother’s words. That’s what she meant by _stealing their humanity_. And, God, your stomach churns at the thought. Your perception of his kind changes considerably. Seungcheol’s story slowly comes to its end.

“The freedom we tasted when we broke out. It was invigorating. We wallowed in it. It was our prize to console in. But then we remembered—the world hadn’t stopped when we got locked up. _Others_ were able to live life freely, without trauma or violation. No amount of words could describe how robbed we felt. We wanted our lives back, and well—you know how it ends.”

Silence draws out. There isn’t a single phrase or speech you can give that could ever mend the pain he’s suffered. But he looks at you expectantly, eyes tired and wide with fear. There are no words, but there are actions.

You press your lips to his. 

The world melts around you. Seungcheol, once tough and daunting, follows suit, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you closer. Your chests touch, and you swear you can feel his pain as though it happened yesterday. He nuzzles your neck after your break apart, and holds you close to his body. 

“And this is why I wanted to abandon my way so badly. I can’t keep biting people in the wrist and pretending like I’m any different from those conductors.”

You stiffen, subconsciously pulling Seungcheol tighter to your body. Exhaling slightly, you try to cover up your surprise with an embrace. He returns the hug, peppering kisses alongside your neck and that’s when you remember it—

—His mother tried to bite you _in the neck_.

Just in time, Jeonghan bounds through the room and stops at the sight of you. Seungcheol separates and clears his throat, bringing his attention to his friend. He scrutinizes you for a second, but disregards you to alert Seungcheol. “She’s back at the ranch. You should go talk to her. She’s…hurt. And betrayed. Seriously, Seungcheol, I don’t question most of the stunts you like to pull but your mother deserves this. She deserves a proper explanation and apology.”

“You’re right,” Seungcheol sighs. “I’ll be right back.”

He gets up and rubs his hands, hesitating as though he forgot something. He leans over your body on the bed, reaching behind you to grab an item, pressing a soft kiss upon your forehead. He leans back and unveils his letter and the necklace!

He tucks the letter into his back pocket and thrusts the necklace into your open palm.

“This was a present from that person I mentioned. I have no use for silver necklaces—_obviously_—but this is something that holds a lot of value to me. It reminds me of…our humanity.”

He clasps your hands together and gives your knuckles a kiss. He nods towards Jeonghan and they clear the room.

Your gaze drops to the necklace in your hand, and you drop it in disgust. Your palm tingles where the chains laid. 

You’re tired of your emotions spiraling in several directions. You’re tired of forgiving vampires one minute and hating them the next. You’re tired of being so empathetic yet so spiteful.

Spending time in this den made you forget what mattered to you the most. You finally got the information you wanted. You finally discovered the culprit.

You’ll finally give Jaehyung the ending he deserves. 

* * *

You’ve never been good at coming up with plans. You either don’t, and when you do—they backfire tragically. You can imagine Jaehyung turning in his grave at every attempt, or non-attempt, you pursue, because they completely go against his principles.

This one especially.

It’s not written out or plotted, hell, it’s barely even conceived. You’ll have to make do with what you have. 

When Seungcheol returns to the den, you wrap your arms around his torso and pull him close. 

“So… is everything okay with…?” 

He chuckles, rubbing your lower back with his thumb. “With Mother? She’s pissed. She was on the verge of disowning me but realized half-way that I’m the only family she has. She’ll come around.”

“I hope so. Even though she attacked me, I feel like she helped jumpstart something between us,” you shy away at the end, toying with the edges of Seungcheol’s clothes. You feel his heart beat in his chest through yours, and the tips of his fingers jitter on your back. Seungcheol gulps before speaking.

“You think so?” You nod, brushing your nose with his. His breath fans over your face, cool and unsteady. You can sense him holding himself back, jerking away whenever your lips get too close. 

You tease him for a moment longer, before gripping his hair and pulling him towards your lips. He succumbs to you immediately, grabbing your body and grinding it against his. You walk him backwards until you both collapse on his bed. 

You straddle his hips and move your hands to his face, locking him in place as you drag your teeth along the corner of his lips down to his jaw. Your teeth sinks into his muscle deliciously and you leave faint indents over his skin. He whines underneath you, bucking his hips to meet yours. 

“Calm down, Seungcheol. No one’s here to rush you,” you plant soft kisses over his eyelids, placing your hands over his hips to push him down. You bite into his neck next, teething over his pulse. He whines.

You grab a tuft of his hair and pull his head back. His mouth opens with a groan and you hook a finger behind his teeth. You feel around his fangs for a second, subtly so he wouldn’t notice, and dive in to take his tongue between your lips.

His moans vibrate through you, and you press harder before he pushes you away. He sits up awkwardly, his eyes locked on you.

“Listen, my mother has nothing to do with what’s happening between us.” This is random. He fits a hand over yours. “At least, not on my part. I’ve always had…”

You smile at him, leaning in to press an innocent kiss to his lips. “I know.”

He nods, relieved, and lays back down so you can continue your work.

“Have you ever had sex with a human?”

“No.”

You sit back, looking down at him amused. “Not even when you were a human?”

“I mean,” he playfully swats you. “You know what I mean.”

He’s back to serious. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”

“I’m on top of you right now so I can decide what’s okay with me and what’s not.”

He raises his eyebrows, amazed by your bluntness, but a sluggish smile soon graces his lips. “If you say so.”

You remove off his top to feel up his chest, while he reaches under your shirt to thumb over your nipples. He moves to lift off your shirt, but you gently push his hands aside, instead lowering yourself onto your knees to pull down his pants. You lower them just enough so that he’s exposed, and you push your palm flat against him. Just like the rest of his body, his member is cool to the touch.

He whimpers beneath your hands, pulling you so you can straddle him once more. You peel off your pants but keep on your underwear. You bring his lips towards yours, and you kiss him with all the passion you can muster up. He groans under your touch, kneading your cheeks in his hands.

You finally lower yourself on his length. Grasping his shoulders for support, you move against him—bucking and grinding and rutting your hips into his. He pulls you flush against him, trailing kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. He grabs you harder, and takes control of the rhythm. His hips starts to falter, ramming into you faster. Moans spill from his lips, singing into your ear. Finally, he chokes up and you feel him pulse beneath you.

That’s when you make your move. Carefully reaching underneath his blanket, you fish out his silver necklace. Wether silver hurts vampires is still a mystery to you today, but your plan doesn’t involve the precious metal’s supposed damage abilities.

While Seungcheol recovers from his orgasm, you wrap the chain around his neck. He startles, glancing up at you inquisitively. For the first time, he sees the apathy on your face. Even after sharing this moment of intimacy, you look down on him like he’s a dissected cadaver. You look down at him like you’re one of _them_.

He stutters out your name, and trembles when you don’t respond. You tighten your grip on his necklace, careful not to let the chains fall loose.

“You disgust me, you know that?”

His eyes widen and almost immediately wets with tears. He calls out to you. “H-huh? You don’t really mean that, do you?”

“I mean it. You talk a lot about _humanity_ but forgot you gave that up as soon as you murdered your first victim. It has nothing to do with you being locked up—you made the choice to turn to barbaric means to get to barbaric ends.”

Outside Seungcheol’s window, you feel the tremor of footsteps. Muffled whoops and cries grow stronger by the minute. 

“You try to trick yourself into thinking you’re not a monster. That you’re not one of them. That you’re ‘saving’ us. All lies. And they were so obvious, too. The dead bodies, the wrist bite marks, the hunting—hell, you even _told_ me that vampires can survive long without feeding. And then you had the audacity to gift me this silver necklace like your poor victim willingly gave it to you. You must take me for a fool.”

Seungcheol doesn’t defend himself—he doesn’t even _try_ to. He merely sits there like a child caught in his lie. You’re tired of him playing with your emotions. Tired of feigning gratitude towards him after he’s attacked, threatened, and taunted you—all because he won’t kill you. 

“You’ve killed my brother. You bit my brother _twice_, and you want to convince yourself the first bite was done out of mercy? I’ll give you mercy,”

You fasten the necklace around his neck, squeezing and pulling until your palms grow red. He gurgles beneath you but doesn’t fight you. He doesn’t lift a finger as his life gets sucked out of him. The skin around his neck burns, scorches red then black, and then—

_Crack!_—

The necklace falls to his shoulders, and you drop your grip on it entirely. Seungcheol’s lifeless body bounces on the bed as you climb to your feet. 

He lays there in a melange of colors—from blue to black to red to white. It’s gorgeous. It’s something you would have never been able to paint with your own homemade colors. It’s a beautiful finish to a three-year long mission. 

You slide a knife from under his bed, retrieved from the kitchen while he was gone. You aim its blade at your neck.

“I’ll meet you in Hell.” It’s the trade you’ll make when it comes to the life of your brother.

“_Seungcheol_! Hunters are here to—” Jeonghan stops at the doorway, eyes widened with panic as he relays the ongoing situation. His gaze travels from your body over towards Seungcheol’s, realization slowly sinking in. He snaps back towards you, rage and anguish captured in a single look. He struggles to say something, something that _matters_, while you stand there with a knife in your hand as the hoard of vampire hunters approach. “I should have let his mother finish you off.”

The stomps of the hunters get louder, and past the blinds in the window you make out several familiar faces. It’s the people from the fields. They promised to help you, and they came back with allies.

Bittersweet appreciation warms your chest. You almost want to apologize to them for risking their lives on a lost cause, but your gaze meets with Jeonghan’s and you see he’s lost, too. 

“Don’t worry. They’ll help guide you back to me, from that point I’ll carry you down to Seungcheol.”

You plunge the knife straight into your jugular, cutting the scars left by Seungcheol. The roars of the hoard grows louder, and fainter, as you drift into an unforgiving death.

**Author's Note:**

> so it's my first time posting on ao3. honestly have no idea what i'm doing. follow me on tumblr @ddalmun to request stuff but don't read through my past work because its. its all ass. thank you for reading and goodnight.


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